Saturday, January 31, 2015

Its doors were swung wide open, and firmly stuck in place, as if stoppers prevented them from closing - thus deliberately exposing - a stony, stuccoed presence, for ages, derelict and defaced.But it didn't care. In fact, it stoically stood there,impassive to the plethora of invading greenery; a snub to the supposed shambles of its neglected scenery.

It had nothing to hide, unlike, its scarlet shuttered neighbour, on the opposite side, of the cracking, cobbled road. Oh, the heavy load of secrets it must have hoarded, stored and boarded, inside its padlock protected door.

In second place, for its geometric brilliance,and traces of richly, brush stroked hues,was the abode boasting views of the Aegean, whose signature sea blues, once cruisedthe surface of its original facade - now an open-air exhibit, of peeling patches of patina, a cryptic, colour flawed collage.

And so, when passing by this beauty, on my daily morning walks, I can't help but to wonder, what it would say if it could talk. Are those who inhabit its interiors, well loved and cared for, like its outer girth, that is hugged by pretty blooms and rays of warmth and nourishing self-worth?

I often ponder such questions, of the deeply personal kind, while wandering the pastures of the Cretan countryside.

Once, while pausing to admire the stillness of the sea, I got wind of an answer, blowing in the breeze, when a suddengale snatched the gist of wisdom from the gusty vicinity, and it disappeared forever, zigzagging through the rows of olive trees. Oh, if only walls could talk.

Monday, January 26, 2015

its way across this giant globe of ours, so that really, we are all neighbours, if you will, connected by one, long and winding road. And, even though many of us happen to live at opposite ends of that road, wefeelthat, if wedid live next door to one another, we would surely be borrowing a cup of sugar at a moment's notice, (for that cake we're suddenly craving), picking up each other's kids from school, (when we're running late), going on power walks together, (huffing and puffing and finally stopping - at the nearest donut shop), or promoting each other's junk at our annual garage sale, (then cry into our wine, panicked, that we just sold our treasures for a pittance!) - ah, yes,if we lived nearby.

So, surely, you can understand that, when a lovely parcel leaves a friend's home, and travels all the way across the planet, to finally arrive at my home, here, in the hilly, Cretan countryside, it is, at least for me, a most wonderful thing!

Prince Richard, I take it, thinks otherwise.

It feels very special to know that, even though I have never actually met my friend in person, nor have I ever spoken to her, for that matter, the contents of that parcel, two of her very own culinary creations, came from her home, where they were so carefully wrapped, packed, and addressed, in preparation for their many airplane rides, to mine, in the faraway land, in the small world. From her kitchen, to my table, that parcel of seasonal treats, represents a 'taste' of her presence, in my own residence, as if she brought them here, herself!

This is my sweet and pretty friend, Doreen, hostess at House Honeys, with whom I was supposed to be exchanging Christmas cards. Little did I know, that she had contacted Kris, (as in 'Kringle'), and sweet talked him, (literally!), into the following scheme:

Yes, dear readers, Doreen got Santa to deliver her world renowned Chocolate Dipped Walnut Biscotti and gourmet worthy Jalapeño Pepper Jelly, a dynamic duo of delicious, sweet and savoury goodness, all the way to Greece!And that's where this story turns sour, before it once again, gets sweet.You see, the parcel took 12 days to reach our designated post office, located in the next village over, which is normal for Christmas correspondence. What isn't normal, but rather completely unacceptable, is that it sat there, for another 33 days due to a case of 'mistaken identity'!

According to them, they could not 'find' me, after 'searching' for weeks, because of a discrepancy regarding my last name. I use both my husband's last name, and my maiden name, since Greece allows the two, but because my Greek I.D. is in my maiden name, and I had given Doreen my husband's name, things didn't add up. I was told that they were ready to throw out (!) the parcel, if it weren't for a fellow villager, who recognized my husband's name on it, while there one day. He contacted my husband immediately, who called me right away, and that's when I instantly knew it was Doreen's parcel, which was M.I.A.! The thing is, they didn't even bother to come to our village at all, and I can prove it, since, if they had, they would have left a notice in our mailbox, located in the square, (which, by the way, has both last names on it), informing me to pick it up. In addition, it is customary for postmen to leave parcels at the main cafe, in which case, everyone would have confirmed my existence!!

This pretty, pearly necklace, a giveaway I won at Art Decoration and Crafting, authored by my talented Athenian friend, Christina Makri, had
a similar fate. It was lingering in limbo land for exactly one week, when I
went to pick up both parcels, a few days ago. I found them sitting
together on an old chair, looking very lost, poor things. What an
adventure they'd had on the island of labyrinths and lazy mailmen!

What about you? Have any of your letters or parcels

left their departure point, only to disappear, then reappear, before reaching their final destination?Do tell!

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Before we dig into the decadent delight above, I'd like to thank you all so much for your sweet comments on my previous post. Sharing, whether it's happy news, a delicious meal, or one's precious time, is so gratifying, isn't it? Today, I'dlike to share my Strawberry Snow Cake with you, as promised. Won't you stay for tea?

A
collection of Christmas crockery was scattered on the table, starting
with a festive British teapot, (an adorable gift from Liberty, a few
Christmases ago). Then, the cheery, red capped snowmen cups came down
from the credenza, while their silver plated cousins, who travelled all the
way from Canada, kept the table that Liberty had set, looking neat.

This recent, Cretan, snowy scene above, along with my memories of Toronto snowfalls, long ago, below, were the two inspirations for this cake, since the first was completely unexpected, but a pleasant surprise, especially for me, who was feeling a little nostalgic for the whimsy of those crisp, Canadian winters of my girlhood, wind chill factor, and all!

Evening
streetscapes, alight with the glow of snow, silent, but for the whisper
of snowflakes in the sky, and serene, are like a dream, where powdery
paths lead to intriguing venues, via crystal covered avenues.

Can you understand then,

my craving for such a cake,

whose middle layer,

like a mountain of

sweet snowflakes,

brought back memories

of crazy carpet rides,

on curvy, icy, schoolyard slides?

A beautiful Christmas card I received from my dearest Dewena, who always seems to know what I'm feeling, even from so far away.

Oh, my snow. I miss it so.

And that, mes amis, is the story of my snowy sweet, a red and white, Canuck tied treat, a cool concoction of whipping cream, and jam from jewel-like strawberries.

Inspired by different snowfalls:one, recent and surprising, and many, relived in my memory,it was then aptly named by Liberty! Otherwise, it is more widely known as the very famous Victoria Sponge, a British classic, whose recipe you can find right here, quite readily.

Icons, candelabras, and crosses inside the church of Agios Ioasaf, Agios Thomas, Crete.

where we visited several of the forty churches that are said to exist in the village, some of which are carved from rock formations, like Agios Ioasaf, above, and the tiny one below.

On many occasions, we were accompanied by local inhabitants of the furry kind. In this case, two cute canines happily posed for pics, before we went our separate ways.

Liberty and her Prince. See the snow?

On the other hand, P.R. and Liberty (the love of his life),were inseparable, and the spoiled royal never missed a photo op to prove to the world that he is still her man!

And speaking of proof, it's in these pics! As unbelievable as it may seem, it snowed - heavily, and many of us, (including yours truly and family), were confined to our homes for days.

That's when Liberty and I baked up our 'snow cake', to celebrate Crete's white Christmas, which was quite magical for this Canadian expat. I'll be serving it in my next post, and I hope you'll drop by to share it with me.

Until then, thanks so much for visiting!Wishing you a warm and cozy week!xoPoppy

The
village of Agios (St.) Thomas, where several Byzantine churches attract
tourists throughout the year.

Outside, the air is crisp and cool, and even though it's been raining for 3 days straight, we've managed to take a few drives to favourite, nearby haunts, seeking a little adventure.

In the village of Agios (St.) Thomas, we hiked up a hilltop,

where ancient Roman tombs silently claim the land.

Wandering into the small, damp caves, we

were sheltered from the sudden downpour,

as we gazed in silence, at the most

beautiful views, across the valley, below.

Back home, we got busy preparing for several gatherings,

adding some scrumptious savouries to the many array of sweets, and decided to bake a tasty tiropita (cheese pie),

which, in turn, was accompanied by lively conversation, and good cheer, at a Christmas Tea Liberty and I hostedlast week, for the ladies of the Philanthropic Society.

To ring in the new year, we baked our traditional Vasilopita, or New Year's Eve cake, named after St. Basil, who is associated with Santa Claus in the Greek culture. At the stroke of midnight, after many hugs and kisses and well wishes, the Vasilopita is served. This delicious lemon cake contains a hidden coin, and before each piece is cut, a name is called out. Whoever finds the coin in their piece is said to have good luck for the new year. The first piece is always reserved in remembrance of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

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About Me

Born and raised in Toronto, I'm a Greek-Canadian, who has spent half of my life across the pond, residing on the beautiful island of Crete.
A city girl by birth, having built my dream home in the countryside of another country, I have recently returned to Crete after a lengthy stay in Toronto.
Please join me on my new adventures around the island, through vineyards and citrus groves, mountainous terrain and sandy beaches, Crete is a magical place.
Don't forget to leave a comment to let me know you dropped by; it's always lovely to hear from you!
Email: youlahatzaki@gmail.com